


Could've Been A Dream

by sicktodeathoflogic



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sicktodeathoflogic/pseuds/sicktodeathoflogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor reacts to Oliver's news. Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could've Been A Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I know the "what happened after Oliver told Connor" scenario has been done a lot, but I wrote this when I watched the finale, and it's been kicking around my computer ever since.

Oliver regretted giving Connor a key to his apartment for precisely this reason. He always managed to show up at the worst times. One time, Oliver was trying to shower before work (although that ended more pleasantly, with Connor swiftly ripping off his clothes with lightening speed before hopping in with him). Another time, Oliver was watching romantic comedies that were so bad they had been demoted to Hulu, and ever since Connor would drop jokes with the weight of boulders about whether they should braid their hair and have pillow fights. 

But this was much, much worse. Oliver hated that he cried easily, and even more so that he couldn’t seem to stop himself, not when Connor’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water when he told him. 

Out of all the theoretical scenarios that Oliver played out in his head when he got his results back, this certainly was not one of them. He expected Connor to be angry, to yell at him things like why he hadn’t more careful and how dare he gave him shit about sleeping with other guys. Or maybe he would leave silently, quickly, grabbing his few shirts from Oliver’s closet and leaving the key on the hook next to the door.

Either way, he would leave. Oliver could think of no logical explanation why Connor would stay, despite that nagging little voice in the back of his mind saying that maybe he’ll feel bad. Oliver thought that pity would be the worst feeling of all.

Connor did none of these things, much to Oliver’s despair. Though he only stole a glance or two at him, sitting on the bed, Oliver could see that he was deep in thought, the cogs and wheels behind his eyes whirring rapidly. Oliver clutched the pillow tighter to his chest and let a few silent tears fall.

“You’re positive,” was the first thing Connor said, as if he hadn’t believed Oliver the first time. Oliver responded with a sad nod. Connor breathed in deeply and blew out the air slowly from the “O” he made with his lips. “Okay,” he started. “Let’s get you tested again, just to make sure, and then worse case scenario we can go to the doctor and see what treatment you can get.”

Oliver had stopped breathing, and remembered how to when the tightness in his chest suddenly collapsed. “What?”

“I mean, you can go by yourself if you want.” Connor ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t look in Oliver’s direction. “I just thought you’d want some company.”

“No, that’s not it, just – why are you still here?” Oliver furrowed his brow ferociously and confused tears matted his cheeks.

Connor snapped his head to look at Oliver squarely, obviously hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Oliver said quickly, instinctively reaching out one of his hands towards Connor from the pillow. “No, it’s just that – you don’t have to stay. You have plenty to deal with without having a sick boyfriend.”

“Oliver, it’s going to be alright – ”

“Don’t tell me that!” Oliver yelled. “You can’t tell me that everything’s going to be alright, ‘cause it’s not! You won’t want to take care of me forever, and I’m certainly not going to give you HIV if you stay! Do you know how guilty I feel? Thinking that I could’ve given this to you so many times? You deserve someone better, someone who isn’t – ” Oliver didn’t even notice Connor moving across the bed. He quickly moved Oliver’s pillow and wrapped his arms around Oliver’s shaking frame. Oliver resisted the hug at first, but then completely shattered. “Connor,” he sobbed, “I’m sorry.”

Connor rubbed his back. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

Oliver ignored his inner monologue screaming that it was, and instead slipped his arms around Connor’s waist. “What’m I gonna do?” he whispered.

“We’re going to be fine,” Connor said quietly in his ear, emphasizing the “we” with volume. “Besides, it’s about time I took care of you for a change.” Oliver chuckled, though it came out more as a strangled sniffle, and he could feel Connor’s smile on his back.

After Oliver had thoroughly cried himself into exhaustion, Connor persuaded Oliver to lie back down (“Not like _that_ , Oliver; I’m not an idiot”), and he held Oliver there all night. As Oliver was drifting off to sleep, he could’ve sworn that he felt a kiss behind his ear, followed by Connor whispering, “I love you, too.”

Of course, that could’ve been a dream.


End file.
